"You know of Belcourt's golden adage, yes?"

"Of course," Iyana said as she laid down a cup of tea before Sasha. Straightening to full height, she recited the adage that was engraved in their minds. "Courage, passion, wisdom, and service maketh the perfect woman."

Sasha sighed. "I fear I am far from the perfect woman."

Iyana peered at her knowingly. "I knew it from the moment you woke up that your meeting with your flower did not go well last night. What could have happened that makes you think you are far from perfect, Lady Sasha?"

"Courage... I may not be from the Court of Arms, but I do have a bit of it. Wisdom, quite a little, but I am afraid I do not have enough to convince Belcourt that I belong in the Court of Libraries. Service... well, you do know I am efficient in that regard as we both took all the tests that required one to be in your court. Passion, on the other hand, is what I lack."

"You have passion, Lady Sasha."

"Not the kind of passion I am talking about, Iyana. I am passionate about science and research, for discovering the mysteries of the mind. I am not passionate about..." She let her voice trail off. "You know what I mean!" she said in frustration.

Understanding dawned on Iyana. "You believe you cannot please him in the way you think he expects."

"Is that not what Belles are supposed to do? Please their gentlemen? He left last night with the worst words a man could say on the first meeting with a Belle. And I am telling you, Iyana, I may not have been properly trained to be one, but I am no fool. I know how to read between the lines and that man said words that—that frustrates me so!"

Iyana, for the love of her, did not ask for the words and simply smiled. It was a knowing one and Sasha wondered what it meant. "Belcourt is many things, Lady Sasha, but it is most often right. Trust that you were re-courted for a reason. To be the second woman in Belcourt's history to be re-courted should tell you something. Of all the hundreds of ladies wanting to be in the Court of Flowers, they chose you. Why is that so?"

"That is the answer I intend to find out. I plan to travel to Belcourt on the morrow. I barely had time to ask them questions because I... well, I fainted after they announced that I was re-courted."

Iyana blinked. "Oh."

"Yes. Oh."

Sasha proceeded with her breakfast in silence, Iyana leaving her alone to attend to more duties.

Someone was coming this morning to take her to her fittings and she should be ready.

But two hours later, Sasha was not looking forward to gown fittings at all. She was counting the hours until the morrow when she could go to Belcourt and demand for a different gentleman. And demand answers. Surely, they had a different reason for turning her into a Belle.

Have they not had a good look at her? She was plain in comparison to the other women. Even West, that arrogant, insensitive man, would agree!

Iyana came to announce that someone was here.

"A man?" she asked, silently cursing herself at the terrified tone in her voice.

Iyana chuckled, shaking her head. "No. A lady from Belcourt."

"A Belle?"

"No, I meant someone from inside Belcourt." Her maid walked closer to whisper, "She is in a green cloak."

Sasha blinked. "The Court of Arms? Why would someone from the Palace be here?"

"Hush!"

"Why? Is her presence her supposed to be a secret?"

"Well, no. But you know them Soldiers. They like their anonymity. Their green cloak is filled with mystery."

"Ridiculous," Sasha said, already walking to the door. "Have you offered her tea?"

"Yes, of course. And pistols and hot daggers. I know they love their pistols and daggers," her maid replied.

Sasha was still smiling at Iyana's quip as she entered the parlor and found a woman already sitting inside the room, sipping tea. Beside her in the settee was her emerald green cloak.

"Good morning—" she stopped as soon as the woman stood to greet her. Red waves, light green eyes, freckles. She was stunning.

She should be the Belle, not I, the thought passed Sasha's mind. She vaguely remembered the woman who might be older than her. She might have seen her one time or another around Belcourt.

Sasha caught herself as the woman smiled at her. It was a gentle smile, but Sasha doubted if it was true. It could be a façade.

The ladies from the Court of Arms were Belcourt's soldiers and for Sasha, they were the elite amongst all courts. Their sole purpose was to protect the Palace, not the Kingdom of Sutherland's, but the most important place inside Belcourt.

Not only were they tasked to protect the Palace, the ladies from the Court of Arms were also trained to be the best in combat to protect the whole of Belcourt.

Theirs was the most secretive and loyal court.

Once, Sasha aspired to be one of them—a Soldier. She spotted a few of them ladies swimming across the lake in Belcourt, their strokes powerful and graceful, and her young self was awed. But her tendency to faint at any time dispelled the dream as fast as it came, for as the stories went, the Soldiers of Belcourt were required to do tasks that even the constables of Sutherland could not fathom and Sasha was not suitable for that. She could faint if she were in any form of physical or emotional pressure.

"Lady Sasha," the woman greeted, voice direct and commanding, clear and succinct. "I am Gabrielle from the Court of Arms."

Sasha stole another glance at the green cloak on the settee. "I have figured," she said with a smile. "Please, sit." She did the same, taking the lone winged chair standing adjacent to the settee, facing away from the window that overlooked the street outside. "I should say I am curious to have someone from your court giving me a visit. I assume you are not the person to take me to my fittings?"

The woman chuckled. "No, I am afraid not. Belles going to fittings may pose a few dangers including a prick of a needle, but I do believe nothing that requires an escort."

As the woman spoke, Sasha wondered how fast this woman could run or how good she was with her weapons.

"Then you are here for something else."

"I am, yes. Lady Eastwell wishes me to inform you that I shall be your liaison for the Court of Arms during your mission."

The smile on her lips froze and she frowned. "What mission?"

Gabrielle frowned. Blinked. "Your mission. Please, do tell me you are jesting."

"I do not know what you are talking about. What mission?"

"What were you told yesterday?"

"That I am now a Belle and that I have to pack my things."

"That is all?"

"I also fainted before anything else was spoken."

Gabrielle smiled. "You are the Fainting Belle. Or have you not heard?"

"I was the Fainting Fairy before that."

The woman's beautiful face turned serious once more. "You are telling me that you were not informed of any mission?"

"Yes, I was not informed of anything related to any mission."

Gabrielle scoffed in disbelief. "Then you mean to tell me that they re-courted you without telling you why?"

"Yes." Sasha leaned forward. "Would you care to tell me? I have been dying to know. I was forced to accept my new position and I... well, you must imagine how it feels."

"Of course. You are confused." Gabrielle looked around. "Is someone else aware that you did not apply to be re-courted?"

Sasha blinked. "There is such a thing?"

"Of course. But applications have always been rejected. You are courted where Belcourt sees you fit."

"And will you tell me now? Why was I suddenly re-courted? Why me? Why not the hundreds of women clamoring to be placed in the Court of Flowers?"

Gabrielle opened her mouth and closed it again. "No, I believe I am not the person to tell you that. Lady Mariam ought to have given you your orientation." She sighed. "But considering the animosity between her and Lady Eastwell, I believe reluctance is expected from her."

It was not a mystery to everyone in Belcourt that the Mistresses of the Court of Arms and Flowers were not quite chummy.

"This is a misunderstanding. I will have to report it to my Mistress immediately." Gabrielle came to her feet. "Will you be available on the morrow to make a trip back to Belcourt?"

"I was planning to travel to Belcourt on the morrow."

"Perfect. Then I shall see you there." Gabrielle looked around once again. Was it a Soldier thing to do? Constantly survey the area? "For now, keep your silence. No one is to know that you are on a mission for yours is a sensitive one."

"Is it a common thing then? These missions?"

Gabrielle looked at her with something akin to pity. "I know that there is too much to take in for you, Lady Sasha."

"It is. I cannot—I cannot be a Belle." She felt a great sense of relief to finally admit it to someone. "The idea abhors me, to be frank."

Gabrielle frowned. "Why so? To be a Belle requires great responsibility."

She scoffed. "If you mean pleasing men and keeping them chained to your bed so they continue to pay Belcourt a great responsibility, then perhaps for it would require one to strip themselves of their honor and virtues."

Gabrielle stared at her for a long time, the surprise in her eyes apparent. But with a knowing smile, she finally spoke, "You were in the Library for the duration of five years before you were whisked into the world of the Belles. You were in the Common Court before that and the realities that all the courts face are rarely taught there. We were never told of the true responsibilities each court carries. We were innocent in the Common Court, were we not? We only had our lessons to fret about. We only dreamed of turning eighteen so we can be courted into the courts of our dreams."

"And I was courted in the court of my dreams. I was ecstatic to learn that I would be in the Library. Yet here I am, a two-day-old Belle."

Gabrielle nodded in understanding. "And the Library is the worst place to know anything about Belcourt despite the fact that you keep all its records."

Sasha froze. "Whatever does that mean?"

Gabrielle smiled at her. "I am telling you this, Lady Sasha—"

"Please, just Sasha."

Gabrielle nodded. "Sasha, I am telling you this because I do not wish you to go about the rest of your day blindly." She paused before she continued. "Being a Belle is more than just being a pretty face, Sasha. They are judged because of the tasks bestowed on them by Belcourt, but that is merely a façade. Belcourt does not need the money they get from the gentlemen—the flowers as you call them." A pause. "Do you not see it yet?"

Sasha swallowed. "See what?"

"Belcourt gains from the men in a different way. They are useful in other means. Belcourt does not need money from these gentlemen for we have vast land and can fend for ourselves. These men are useful because of their secrets." Gabrielle allowed a few seconds for her words to sink in before she added, "The Belles are not just ornaments. They are weapons."